


Grey.

by sonnet_18



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Mink-centric, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 00:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8468827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonnet_18/pseuds/sonnet_18
Summary: What can he do when he could only see two?





	

Black ink, white paper.

 

Black alphabets printed on white pages of paper.

 

Black and white.

 

Life is simple if all he has to care about if one is black. Because that can only mean the other must be white.

 

Being able to see only those two colours and some shades of grey is convenient to him. For it doesn’t interfere with his reading and completing multiple tasks.

 

Black and white.

 

Good and evil.

 

With a black hilt blade, he cut down the white gloved Toue.

 

With dark blood splattered to his face, Mink exited the crumbling bright tower.

 

Black and white.

 

It has always been what he could see after the fires that burnt down his village and took his sight. The fire stole his vision of colour away but not enough to steal his determination to end Toue himself.

 

Now that the deed is done and Mink took it upon himself to be his family cemetery’s eternal guard, he lives alone in his monochrome world.

 

Mink spends his grey life with his pet bird and books as his companions, not a care for the colours of the world. Because to him it’s enough to read the darkened letters arranged in paragraphs across the pages.

 

Just black and white.

 

Black on a vast canvas of white.

 

However... it is a problem to Mink if his world consists of only the colour of darkness.

 

“Another blackout.”

 

He sighs as he blinks to get his eyes used to darkness of the room. The rain outside has been coming down harder the past week. Seems like the cables finally give in and caused an electricity disturbance to Mink’s house.

 

In annoyance, he takes off his reading glasses and closes his book. He’ll fix it tomorrow once the rain let up. Besides, he can still keep warm thanks to the traditional fireplace in his living room.

 

What should he do now? He can’t continue reading or his sight will get worse from this insufficient light of the fire. It’s still early in the evening to go to sleep. Plus he’s not tired yet. A walk around the forest for a night stroll may not be a good idea since it’s raining heavily outside.

 

With his few options ran out, there’s only one task he can perform without dragging himself to the town bar.

 

The former artisan reluctantly goes to his dusty, study room. With a lantern he used for camping plucked from the wall, he places the light device on the table and sits down.

 

A wave of sadness envelopes him as he caresses the dusty box of tools arranged on the table. One box contains tiny pebbles he collected from water streams, a bag of beads and some energy stones.

 

Next to the box is a lock of threads, floss and yarn. Last on the left side of his work table stood his largest box containing his tools for crafting such as scissors, small metal clasps, a worn out pencil for drafting and others.

 

There’s even a small pile of eagle’s feathers he picked up one time he strolled down the woods for collecting herbs. The feathers were stained with dried blood because the bird was injured from a predator’s attack. He wondered if the bird manage to escape or became the predator’s meal.

 

Mentally shaking his head, he focuses back on the items across his table.

 

Mink used to sit at this table nightly and work on beautiful jewelries to be sold at his shop in the past. Sometimes customers from the other village would come over to buy his crafts. The women who called themselves his fans for some reason though he didn't fully understand. But he resigned from the job when his colour blindness became worse and stopped him from being able to sell a single, decent product. Being a perfectionist, Mink couldn’t bear to sell handcrafted items to people when he cant tell if the colours match or if the feathers work with the stone’s shade. It felt like he was liar to sell such... shoddy work to unsuspecting tourists who only wanted to get some souvenirs.

 

And so Mink made the decision to close his shop.

 

Closing his small store was harder to accomplish than Mink expected. Maybe because it was a similar feeling when he buried his family after the fire by himself.

 

Closing his shop meant he officially can’t sell his family art that was passed down from his ancestors.

 

Closing his shop meant no tourists and customers will learn of his dying traditional and history.

 

Once Mink pass away, in 5 or 10 years, people will forget such a small tribe ever existed in the forest where they lived alongside mother nature.

 

Mink grits his teeth at his heavy thoughts.

 

The fire stole his ability to see colours.

 

With a vision of only black and white, how can you complete a bangle of rainbows?

 

He is the last surviving member of his tribe and he’s not getting any younger.

 

Now with his impaired vision, another priceless culture of his people will die with him.

 

All that he learned from his boyhood years... from the teachings passed down from his mother and grandmother, all about the lessons of life from nature... they will all be gone and forgotten once he too joins his family with the Gods above.

 

Despite how he’s still alive and breathing now, he’s no different than a ghost of the past. Why is he still living? What is he waiting for? The world doesn’t need a soulless man.

 

He’s nothing more than a white ghost.

 

A white phantom in this black world.

 

Black and white.

 

Til the end there’s only black and white.

 

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End?

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I missed writing Mink and this came out. AU where Mink completed his revenge but Aoba didn't exist and so what happened to him? Just a living ghost.


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